


Blood love

by RedRosesHaveThornes



Category: Beauty and the Beast (TV 2012)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-10-21
Updated: 2015-10-28
Packaged: 2018-04-27 11:00:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,131
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5045725
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RedRosesHaveThornes/pseuds/RedRosesHaveThornes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She needed saving. So he saved her. But not her mother. She left. He kept tracking them.<br/>Now she's back. And she's trained. And what's worse, she's driven. She wants answers and she'll get them.<br/>He's still after them, working in the shadows. He likes it like that. No distractions.<br/>But she hasn't forgotten him, and he definitely remembers her.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The comeback.

**Author's Note:**

> Firts work in this fandom. Totally in love with these characters. Kinda AU. Hope you like it.
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own the caracters in this story or any other registered brand that may appear in the chapter.

* * *

 

Seas of people. Honking cars. Big advertisements on even bigger buildings. The smell of fast food, gas and stress in the air. Things that Cat had sort of -but not really- missed. Welcome to New York.

 ' _Home sweet home.'_ She thinks with a sigh, as a suit-wearing man bumps into her shoulder, clearly way too in a hurry to even apologize, or have manners. Exasperated, she shoves her hands in the pockets of her black leather jacket and weaves her way through the crowd.

 She can't help but observe the people around her, a habit acquired after years of always securing her surroundings.

 It's early October, the fall mood already rooted into the population. Brown raincoats flood the streets, the preoccupied workers either yelling at or scrolling through their phones. Young girls taking pictures of themselves holding Starbucks cups.

  _'What's that word again? Selly? Sa-'_

 "SELFIE!" One of the girls squeals before snapping a picture.

  _'Ah, selfie, right. I bet that's a pumpkin spice latte she's holding.'_

 Rolling her eyes at the cliché-ness of it all, she continues her way until she reaches the cafe where she's meeting Tess. A little bell rings as she comes in, and she surveys the space, quickly locating her friend all the way in the back, two cups in the table before her.

 "Hey there girly." Tess smiles at her as she reaches the table. "Took you long enough."

 She smiles apologetically. "Hey. Yeah, sorry about that. Got kinda fazed with all that out there." She shrugs off her jacket, and places it in her lap. "I swear, I hadn't missed that frenzy _at all._ And can we just talk for a second about how every single girl below 30 _only_ drinks that pumpkin spice thing?"

 "Speaking of drinking" Tess interrupts, signaling to the table with her hands "I got you your favorite." She finishes with a wiggle of her eyebrows.

 Grinning like a mad woman, Cat brings the steaming cup to her lips, taking a sip of the delicious heaven that is a macchiato. "Hmmm." She happily licks her lips. "You're awesome. Thanks, I needed that."

 Tess barks a laugh. "I swear, your obsession with that coffee will always escape my understanding." At the slight glare Cat gives, she puts her arms up in surrender and quickly adds " _But_ , it's still better than those, what are they called again? 'Moccha thai latte'? Like, what are those things?"

 Cat chuckles lightly after taking another sip. "I don't know, but apparently, and don't ask me what this means 'cause I have _no_ idea, they are very 'tumblr'." After sharing a laugh, she says "I have no clue what's _in_ right now, but I'm sure Heather could explain it all with plenty detail." She frowns. "If she still speaks to me." She finishes with a sigh.

 Sensing the sour mood, Tess reaches a hand to Cat's shoulder. "Hey, c'mon, don't do that. She's your sister Cat. It'll take her some time, but she'll understand why you had to leave."

 Looking up at her with a sad smile, Cat puts her hand on top of Tess's. "I hope you're right." Blinking a couple of times to clear her head, she changes the subject. "Anyway, we have to get our head in the game. We didn't come back just to see what lipstick color Kim Kardashian is wearing lately."

 Tess snickers. "Aww man, those Kardashians crack me up." At Cat's raised eyebrow, she clears her throat. "But yeah, you're right, no more silly distractions. What's the plan?"

 "Well, we need to know everything they found in the crime scene. About the killers, about the victim..." She slightly winces at referring to her own mother as just a victim, which doesn't go unnoticed by her best friend.

 "Hey, c'mon. I know this must suck for you, but we gotta treat this as objectively as possible if we wanna do it right."

 "You're right." She shakes her head and fixates her eyes on Tess. "We need those police reports. So it's either hacking into the NYPD's database, or breaking and entering a precinct."

 Rolling her eyes at the ridiculousness of that sentence, Tess states. "Well, I'd really rather hacking into it, but I'm not entirely sure I can without being detected. Give me a couple of days to try and figure it out. If I can't, we'll go with plan B."

 Cat nods solemnly. "Okay. Meanwhile I'll canvas the precinct to find the weakest points. We're going to find out what really happened to my mother once and for all." She says with a flame in her eyes.

 "Girl, you get hella scary when you do that." Tess informs, leaning back into her chair and looking at her mockingly. She only sticks her tongue out in return, earning her a laugh. They dive into a conversation about the sick obsession everyone has with their phones, and for a moment, she forgets what she's really doing back in this city, and pretend she's just a normal girl with a normal best friend.

 Only for a moment though.

 

* * *

_Six years ago_

 

"I can't wait to start! It's gonna be so amazing mom!" Cat says half jumping with excitement. Her mother, Vanessa, laughs at her and shakes her head at her childish ways.

"I know, I know. College is exciting, I get it. But honey, remember that it's not only fun and games,okay? Don't be disappointed when you actually have to open a book." Vanessa says with a smirk.

Rolling her eyes, Cat weaves her arm through her mother's and strolls down the street with her. "I know that mom. Geez, don't you remember that I'm a nerd? I _love_ the idea of college books. It's not really about the parties, it's about trying new things out and being in my own and figuring out my future and-"

Her mother's laugh cuts her off. "Oh honey, you are gonna do so great in college. I was just like you, you know? And those were some really good years." She says nostalgic.

"Well, since I _also_ want to be a scientist, I guess it's a good thing we're alike, huh?" Cat's says with a bright smile.

She looks around, taking in the streets she's known all her life. She'll be leaving for NYU in a couple, so she's determined to squeeze every last magical minute out of this place before she parts. Hence, her strolling around at almost midnight with her mother.

Her mother. Her saying that they're alike is one of the best compliments she could ever hope for. Not only was Vanessa Chandler a brilliant scientist, expert in genetics and biology, but a kind, caring person, and moreover, a loving mother. Cat and her sister were raised believing they coul be anything they wanted to so long as they worked hard, and knowing that no matter their passions and decisions, their family would always support them.

To Cat, that support is the fuel that's driven her life and shaped her as who she is. If there's something she's sure of, is that her parents and her sister would always take her side. And really, who could ask for more?

She's losing herself in thoughts of huge libraries with thousands of books and football games so loud you can't even hear yourself, when her mother suddenly halts.

"What is it mom?"

"Shh."

"Help! Somebody please help!"

Someone's shouting. It's coming from deep in the park. Her mother doesn't hesitate and quickly jogs to where the voice is coming from. She trails behind her, and they find a man in a suit frantically looking around.

"Hey! We heard screaming, is everything okay?" Vanessa inquires while Cat stays quiet.

The man looks startled at them, and shakily explains. "My friend he needs help. We-We were just talking and suddenly he collapsed and he's not waking up and I-I don't know what to do! You've gotta help him please!

"It's okay." Vanessa said in a calm voice, trying to ease the stranger. "I'm a doctor, I can help him. Take me to him." The man nods rapidly and starts walking, both women following him.

Cat looks around, feeling uneasy. She can't quite put her finger on it, but something's just not right. She's about to say something to her mother, when suddenly the man stops and points under a tree. Vanessa hurriedly walks over to the lying man and kneels beside him.

Checking for pulse, she says "Sir, can you hear me? I'm a doctor and I'm here to help. Can you open your eyes for me?"

"Well, if you ask so nicely." The man, obviously not unconscious open his eyes and grins at Vanessa. Confused, she's about to turn around when she hears the click of a gun being loaded.

Cat stares in mute horror as the scene unravels, unable to do anything but silently cry in fear. Vanessa gets up slowly, as does the man lying on the floor, who dusts himself of before walking over to his partner.

"Honestly, I wasn't quite sure you were going to fall for it. But then again, always the good citizen huh?" He says icily as he too points a gun at Vanessa.

"What do you want?" She says through gritted teeth. Cat looks over at her mother confused. She doesn't sound scared, no, she sounds angry, furious even. Did she know these men?

"Darling, there's nothing you have that could get you out of this." Vanessa closes her eyes tightly, only to open them and glare at them. "Oh, look at that. She's a feisty one. Such a shame."

It all happens in a blur. Cat hears more than sees the guns being fired, followed by her mother falling to the ground. She screams, and finally regains her ability to move, running to her mother. She takes her head in her hands, the lifeless expression of her mother looking back at her. She screams again and cries harder, the sobs shaking her whole body while she hugs what's left of her mother. There's blood everywhere she looks but she doesn't care, she just holds her.

"Pity we have to kill that one too, she's a pretty one."

She barely registers the men talking, just lets her instinct kick in and starts backing off. She keeps dragging along the grass until her back hits the tree. Her eyes widen in realisation. She can't run. No one has heard her screaming. Her mother is dead and now she's gonna die too because she wanted to go for a stupid walk in the middle of the night. This is all her fault. Closing her eyes, she awaits the inevitable, waits to hear the shot.

But she hears a growl. And then screams.

She opens her eyes. Blinking away the tears she tries to make sense of what's happening. Someone, no, _something_ is attacking the suited men. It's fast and strong and relentless. The sounds it's making are clearly animal, yet it's moving on two legs and looks like a person. Like a man.

It's over before she can really register it, the two corpses of the men lying on the floor, their necks broken. Whatever killed them is standing above them, breathing heavily. She doesn't know what to do, let alone what to feel. It saved her, but it also scared her. She's about to be stupid and ask him who he is, -what it is-, when his head snaps up. It looks over it shoulder, barely setting its eyes on her, and with a final growl, it speeds off into the night, disappearing from sight.

She's stuck yet again, her mouth agape. In the corner of her eye she sees her mother's body, and her brain starts functioning again. She goes to her and kneels, bringing her head into her lap and slightly combing her fingers through her mother's dark hair. She calls 911, tells them where she is and just waits there, caressing her mother's face.

Once the cops arrive, they take her mother away, and a paramedic makes sure she's okay. She's not, but her health apparently is, and so the cops bring her over to her father and her sister, who are crying when they reach for her and envelop her in a hug. She tries to hug back, but her body won't move without her minds order, and her mind is only focused on one thing. A detective asks her what happened, and she looks at him, blinks, then simply says one word.

"Yellow".

The detective looks weirdly at her, like she's gone crazy. Says something about being traumatized and needing rest, and about going to the precinct once she's slept and eaten something. He offers his condolences for their loss and then leaves. But all she can think about is yellow.

His eyes. Yes, his. It was definitely a man. Or at least looked like a man.

And his eyes were yellow.

 

* * *

She jolts awake with a gasp. Blinking rapidly, she looks around trying to make out the space in the dark. She's in her room. Closing her eyes with an exasperated sigh, she pinches the bridge of her nose and combs her hand through her hair, swiping the sweat from her forehead.

She tiredly looks at her beside clock, reading in bright, red numbers that's 4:36 in the morning. She kicks the covers off herself and pads her way into her kitchen, hissing when her feet make contact with the cold floor. She fills a glass from the tap, and the sits on a stool, elbows in the counter, eyes towards the window.

It has been a while since she last dreamt of her mother. After her death, all she got was nightmares, barely slept a wink for months in a row. Tess liked teasing her about being a zombie ninja. With time though, she also started dreaming about the good parts. The nightmares went away, and she finally got some emotional (and physical) rest.

But she had never dreamt of that dreadful night. The night that not only took away her mother, but her innocence and the rest of her family too.

After lying down with her eyes closed for over two hours, she finally made her father believe that she was okay to go into the precint. She told the detective everything, emphasising the yellow eyed-man-creature that had saved her.

All she got was an appointment with a shrink.

Everyone kept telling her that it was okay, that she was traumatized and her mind was playing tricks on her. That they _understood._ Ha! Sure they did. She spent a month and a half trying to get someone -anyone really- to believe her. The cops were a lost cause, and the shrink didn't really care. That only left her family.

She told them over and over again, and each time she'd get the same response: a sad smile and a pity look. One night, after another nightmare, she wondered out into the hallway. Everyone was supposed to be asleep, but there was light coming out of Heather's room. Quietly as she could, she made her way there and peaked through the slightly ajar door. Her father and her sister were talking, more like whispering if you asked her, worried expressions on both their faces. She didn't understand everything they were saying, but she got enough.

_"She's crazy dad. Literally crazy. I mean, monsters? Really?"_

_"I know sweetie, I know. We'll have to talk to her doctor."_

Cat snaps her eyes shut at the memory and brings the glass of water to her forehead, a futile attempt to lure the headache away. That was the night she decided to leave. She was _not_ crazy, she has never been. No one believed her, but that was okay, she didn't need them to. But she couldn't live somewhere where people thought she was a nut job. So she packed up a left.

But now she's back. And she has people who believe her. And she's no longer a teenager with a trauma and full of fears.

No, she's back with a purpose, a vengeance if you will. She's here to find out the truth, and there's no way she's leaving without it. She'll find out who killed her mother and why. She'll figure out what was that thing the saved her.

One way or another.

* * *


	2. Battle scars

* * *

 

He violently throws the duffel-bag to the floor. He's frustrated. No, scratch that, he's  _pissed off._  Groaning, he lets himself fall face first on his bed.

"I take it it didn't go well." J.T. says from behind.

Barely lifting his head, just enough to open one eye, he looks over at his friend. He's leaning against a wall, arms and legs crossed, a bored expression on his face.

"No, J.T. It went great. It actually went  _so great_  that I've decided to break stuff for the fun of it." Vincent replies, sarcasm everywhere in his voice.

Rolling his eyes, J.T. pushes himself off the wall. "Okay, Captain Sarcasm, hold your fire. Tell me what happened."

Turning himself so that he's laying on his back, he says "Well, it was all going pretty well you know? Went to Atlanta, found the guy, started trailing him. Nothing related to Murifield as far as I could tell, until yesterday morning. He gets a really weird call and looks on edge for the rest of the day. I follow him after work, and confront him. He's  _just about_  to spill it when BANG!"

"BANG?"

"Bullet through the head. Poor guy didn't even see it coming." He sighs and lays his head on the mattress. Pressing the heels of his palms into his eyes, he grunts "I was so close J.T. He was gonna tell me and they killed him for it."

"You don't know that."

Pushing himself onto his elbows, he raises an eyebrow at his best friend. "Oh really? And pray tell, what other reason could they have possibly had to kill one of their own?"

"Well, he could have left the AC on in the lab." J.T. says with a shrug. Vincent just looks at him funny, so he says "Hey, these people are crazy bastards okay? You don't know what pet peeves they have."

"I'll keep it mind for when we finally find them." He says, chuckling under his breath.

"If it makes you feel any better, my week hasn't been so great either. I spilled coffee all over one of my manuscripts in class, got a speeding ticket and completely failed at finding a cure."

"Wait, you got a speeding ticket?"

"Seriously? That's what stayed with you, not the bit about the cure."

"I'm sorry, it's just, you barely even reach the speed limit when you drive. I can't believe you got a ticket." Vincent says with a laugh.

"I  _know_  right?" J.T. replies, an incredulous tone in his voice. "But anyways, the cure thing was a total failure. Thought I had it, tried it on one of the rats, and now we only have 2 rats."

"Wow. Dude, what did you put in that thing?" Vincent asks, sitting up and stretching his neck.

"Nothing poisonous I swear. I really don't know what happened." J.T. replies, looking down.

He gets up and walks over to his friend. "Hey, don't dwell on it, okay? You'll get it eventually."

"You really think so?"

"If anyone can get it, it's you J.T." J.T. smiles lightly at him, and Vincent slaps his shoulder friendly. "I'm gonna take a shower."

J.T. watches him leave. Once Vincent is completely out of sight, he takes off his glasses and rubs his eyes. He's exhausted, and not entirely sure of how much longer he can stay awake. After all, a week without Vincent home usually means a sleepless week trying to find the stupid cure without his best friend convincing him to go to bed.

But really, he just can't give up. Because it's not fair. So he won't stop. Not until he figures out how to help Vincent. He plays it off like it's okay, but J.T. knows better. After all, they've known each other their entire lives. Not even the years apart fazed their friendship. No, best friends for life. Well, brothers really. So he  _has_  to find a cure, he has to help Vincent.

He just has to.

* * *

He steps out of the shower, steam all around him, and blindly grabs a towel. After ruffling his hair with it, he wraps it around his waist and walks over to the mirror. He wipes the condensation away with his hand and then combs his still wet hair out of his face. Leaning his hands on the sink, he stares at his reflection.

He looks tired. Dark circles are visible under his eyes and a constant frown is etched onto his brow. And he really needs to trim his beard, it's getting out of control. Moving his eyes up from his chin, they almost pass it without really noticing it. Almost.

The scar.

He turns his face so that his right cheek faces the mirror and lightly traces it with the pads of his fingers. The memory of how he got it is clear in his mind. But he's not going there. Not today.

Today he focuses on the fact that he's no closer to his revenge. He's spent the last 3 years looking. And he's got nothing. Not a clue. But he will, he will find them.

Murifield. The bastards that destroyed his life in every way they could. The company that thought it would be okay to take a ten year-old boy and experiment on him until he became slightly less than a wild animal. The same company that later on, after he had escaped, would take away from him what he cherished the most.

Well, apparently he  _is_  going  _there_  after all.

* * *

_Three years ago_

His lungs are burning and his legs are begging him to please slow down. He speeds up. He can't stop. He should really, but he  _can't._  He should also come up with a plan, get the upper hand. If only his brain could muster up something apart from those three words.

_They've got them._

His brothers. Murifield had taken his brothers. His everything, really.

So he couldn't stop. And he wouldn't think of the smart way in. It's not like they didn't figure he was coming. After all, the smug bastards had left him  _a freaking note_  telling him they had his brothers. So really, no surprise factor whatsoever.

Sweeping his eyes around the scene, he spots the warehouse where Murifield is holding his brothers captive, and most likely waiting for him with guns blazing. With complete disregard on his own safety, he barges in, grabs the first guy with a lab coat he finds and lifts him off the ground and into the wall by the lapels.

"Where are they?" He growls. Lab coat guy is trembling and he can hear his heart skyrocketing. He shoves him harder. "ANSWER ME!"

"Now now Vincent, is that any way to treat your hosts?"

He slowly turns his head towards the voice. There he is, the son of a bitch who runs this thing. The same one that smiled creepily at him when he was a child, telling him it was going to be okay.

His brown hair is graying at the roots, and there are more wrinkles adorning his face. But he wears the same gray suit, and the same smirk that crinkles his eyes and once sent shivers down his spine. He stands tall, unafraid, and almost proud. As if seeing Vincent like this was a triumph. If only he could put a name to that face.

He feels the change through his veins, and in a moment he's roaring, his beast face out in the open.

"I wouldn't recommend that. If I'm not back there in a couple of minutes they'll kill your brothers." He says calmly. Vincent breathes hard and composes himself, undoing the change. "That's better. Now, please be a darling, put that man back on the floor and follow me." With that, he disappears down the hallway.

Letting go of the lab guy, he hears more than sees the fall to the floor and the grunt in pain. He's speed walking, or speed stomping after the bastard until he reaches a door. He opens it and is immediately held at gun point by three men.

"I'm sorry about the guns Vincent, but we all know you have a bit of a...temper, per se."

"Look, you have me. You finally got what you wanted. Now, let my brothers go." He says, a slight plea in what was meant to be a menacing statement.

"I'm afraid I can't do that." He has the guts to look like he actually cares.

"They've got nothing to do with this." He grunts, trying to hold in the anger flowing through him. Anger at them? For doing this. Or perhaps at himself? For not being able to protect his brothers.

"On the contrary, Vincent. This isn't some strategy to get you here. Well, it is, but it's not just that." He says, a sing song tone to his voice that make Vincent want to rip his throat out.

"What do you mean?"

"You see, Vincent. You are very special. Probably the best specimen we've ever had. Your response to all the upgrades we did to you were unprecedented."  _'Upgrades? I'll give you upgrades, you son of a bitch.'_ "So, it made us wonder. What was so different about you? Is there anything specific that makes certain men more...suitable, for these treatments? And well, who better than your own brothers to test that, right?" With an evil glint in his eyes, he turns to a mirror. Or at least it looked like a mirror. A light goes on in the other side, and suddenly he can see them.

His brothers. Tied to stretchers. There are tubes connected to them, dropping something in their bloods. He walks up to the glass and starts pounding it, screaming their names.

"WILL! DANNY!"

"No need to do that, they can see you too."

His eyes widen as they connect first with Danny's and then with Will's.

"Vincent!" Will screams, fighting against his restraints. "Vincent get out of here!"

Leave it to his brothers to be in this situation and worry more about him than themselves. He's got to do something,  _anything_ , to get them out of here. So he turns to him.

"Don't hurt them. Please. I'll stay, and you'll be able to do whatever you want to me. Just please, don't do this to them.  _Not this._ " He's pleading, and about a minute away from falling to his knees and start begging.

"Don't worry Vincent, they won't be like you. No, we've had years to perfect this mix. They'll be stronger, and faster, and completely obedient. They'll be  _better_."

"Wh-what's that?" At hearing Danny, he turns back to the glass. "What are you doing? Stay away from me!" Danny is backing away from a woman, as much as the ties will let him.

"NO!" He screams, slamming a fist to the glass. "Stay away from them!"

"You can try as much as you want, that glass won't break. We made it specially for you."

He's tempted to snap his neck in two, but then he'll get shot and his brothers need him alive, so he doesn't. For now.

"VINCENT!" Will yells. "Vincent what's going on?! Who are these people?!" A doctor approaches his stretcher, syringe in hand. "Wait, what's in that thing? No! Don't! Get off me! VINCENT!"

He's pounding the glass again. He doesn't care how useless it is. He yells at everyone to stop, to stay away. But they don't. He watches helplessly how both his brothers are held down and injected.

"No. No no no no! NO!" He should be crying, but his entire body has shut down. ' _That's it. They're like me now.'_  He presses his forehead to the glass, whispering apologies into it.

"His vitals are dropping!"

His head snaps back up in time to see the doctor rushing towards Will, who has started spasming on the stretcher.

"We're losing him too!" The woman is hovering over Danny's still body.

"No..." He hears the bastard whisper beside him. "Come on, react."

He doesn't know how his body starts functioning again, but he's never punched or screamed so hard in his life. He can hear everything. Every whisper, every clank of the medical equipment, every drop of sweat hitting the ground. And then, he can only hear one thing.

The endless beeping sound that says neither of his brothers has a heartbeat anymore.

"Such a shame. I had high hopes for them." The bastard sighs beside him.

And that does it.

He's changed in the blink of an eye, and turning fast throws a table at the guys with the guns. Not wasting a second, he runs up to the glass and jumps right through, smashing it completely. He starts throwing people around, getting them away from his brothers. As he's throwing the last one standing against a wall, the bastard says something.

"Outstanding." He whispers. Vincent turns around and the guys with guns start shooting at him. He ducks behind a table, growling at them. "NO! Don't kill him! He needs to be studied!"

Upon hearing that, he jumps back up ready to pounce, but they're all gone. He's already going after them when his jacket gets stuck in some of the equipment. Turning harshly to rip it free, he comes face to face with Danny's lifeless body.

His humanity kicks in like a tsunami, and he's finally crying. He removes all the tubes from the bodies and unties them. He looks at their faces, drained of color. Danny's eyes are closed, but Will's blue irises are looking back at him. With a trembling hand, he slides them closed and combs the hair away from his face. And that's when he breaks.

"I'm sorry." He's sobbing into his big brothers chest, like the lost child that found his way back home all those years back. "I'm so sorry."

He doesn't really know if he spends just one minute or thirty crying, but eventually he dries out. He stands back up and dries the few tears left on his face.  _'I can't leave them here.'_

He feels numb as he carries the bodies out. All he can hear is his boots hitting the pavement. Once both bodies are in the car he had driven here what seems like forever ago, he goes back in, to find something. And address, a name, a number,  _hell_ , a shoe size. Anything that will tell him who these people really are.

There's just him in the building. He walks back into that room, and starts rummaging through every drawer. And then he hears it.

A heartbeat.

It comes from the other side of the glass, where he killed all those doctors. Or well, almost all of them.

He jumps through the gap the glass has left and lands softly, quickly spotting the living one among the dead.

"P-please, don't hurt me." He's just a kid, barely out of high school. A poor intern that got dragged into this, who didn't choose this path.

Oh well, he didn't choose this either.

He can hear the blood inside the kid's body. Internal bleeding, malfunctioning organs. He's already dead.

"Listen kid, you're not stupid, so you know what's going inside you. And you know it'll hurt like hell up until the very last moment. Now, I can do you a favor and kill you quickly and painlessly, or I can turn back around and leave here to suffer for hours. Of course, the first option comes with a price."

"A price?"

"Quid pro quo." He really doesn't know how he's being this stoic and cold on the outside, when really, his whole world is shattering on the inside. "You give me information, I save you from the pain."

"What-" The kid winces, readjusting himself on the floor. "What information?"

"Who are these people? Who is the man in the gray suit?"

"I don't know." At Vincent's expression, the kid reaffirms. "I swear I don't! I'm just an intern. They just told me what to do and where to be. I don't know who runs this."

Deciding he believes him, he ponders his next move. He has to get something put of the kid. If they have been able to find him after all these years, he sure as hell can do the same.

Wait.

"How did they find me?" He asks. "I escaped when I was sixteen. That was nine years ago, and they never knew my full name. So how did they get to my brothers? Huh?  _How did they find me?_ "

The kid gulps. "Th-They said something about a murder. Someone killed two of their guys in some park a couple of years ago. They said only you could have done that damage."

His mind goes back to that night in the park when he saved that girl. He didn't know those guys were Murifield, he was just trying to help.  _'Well, that's what I get for caring.'_

"Okay kid, I believe you." He crouches in front of him. "A deal's a deal. You might wanna close your eyes."

Nodding, the kid swallows. "Thanks." He says, and then closes his eyes. Sighing, Vincent looks down before snapping the kid's neck and carefully laying the body on the floor.

He stands up and looks around. He can't leave all this proof of his existence behind. He needs to burn this place down. Thank goodness for J.T. and all the chemistry he has to endure everyday.

As he drives away from the raging fire he has started, he glances in the rear view mirror. For the first time, he notices the gash on his face, right under his right eye. He winces as he touches it. He must have cut himself when broke the glass.

Wiping away the blood from his face, he faces towards the road. He swears revenge on everyone. He grips the wheel tighter as the adrenaline and the anger run through his veins. He'll kill them all.

He'll kill  _him._

* * *

He shakes himself out of the trance. Looking down at his hand, he notices that he is gripping the sink  _way_  too hard and that he should probably step away if he doesn't want to deal with a pissed off J.T. about a broken sink. Which he really doesn't.

He walks out of the bathroom and puts his pyjama pants on. Maybe sleep will ease his mind a little. But then again, sleep never comes easy after he remembers that dreadful day.

There hasn't been a day in the last three years where focus hasn't been on them. The scar keeps him grounded, reminds him of what he lost for being careless and forgetting about the bull's eye on his back. He's tried everything. But he hasn't found them. And every time he gets close to someone on the inside, they get rid of them.

His thoughts wander to the night in the park. As soon as he figured out that the dead woman was connected to Murifield, he searched for her family. Maybe they'd know something, a place, a name. But they didn't. The father and the youngest girl were completely clueless, they thought it had just been a robbery.

The eldest girl though, she had been there. She had seen him. Well,  _him_. Perhaps she knew something. But she was nowhere to be found. Her family didn't know where she was, or even if she was okay. She had just vanished.

He weighed up two options: Either she did know something and Murifield had taken her -or silenced her-, or she was overwhelmed by the death of her mother and the sight of him and had gone nuts.

Either way, pretty useless in his search for revenge.

Putting all these thoughts aside, he lays down on his bed. He'll think of all of this tomorrow, once he's rested and has a cup of coffee in his hand. Right now, he just wants some peace and quiet. Closing his eyes and putting his hands behind his head, he takes a deep breath and relaxes into the mattress. Slowly, he lets all the sleepless hours of the past week catch up to him and lure him into oblivion.

He drifts off with the faint sound of something resonating in his head. It's rhythmic.

Almost like a heartbeat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There it is. Feed my muses and tell me what you think!

**Author's Note:**

> So, yeah. There it is. Feedback is always nice, just please be respectful. I really don't wanna bring my inner sass out, but I will if you make me.


End file.
